


I Submit

by DestinyWatch



Series: TheDollandTheGoodHunter [2]
Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Bloody Tears, Character Death, Cold, Comfort, Crying, F/M, Family Loss, Vulnerability, Wheelchairs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 00:51:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9098305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestinyWatch/pseuds/DestinyWatch
Summary: The Doll watched from afar, both hands on her chest. In despair, she watched The Hunter’s head roll onto the ground and come to a stop by his body. And somehow, magically, blood ran down her face from her pale eyes.She was crying.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A few people wanted a Sequel so I decided to make a collection of OneShots for Bloodborne- specifically The Hunter and The Plain Doll.  
> This is also short as hell too, sorry for the disappointment. And, it may seem weird because I was totally trying to head towards a different direction, but oops! My hand slipped.

She’s cold.

That was what The Hunter thought when she first touched him, how cold her hands were. It reminded him of the past, when his family died before him. He remembered how cold their stiff bodies were as he held them close.

Bad memories.

But when The Doll caressed his masked face he was brought back to reality. He instantly leaned into her touch, looking into her pale eyes with sorrow. The words that left her soft looking, but hard, lips surprised the green eyed Hunter.

“It is alright Good Hunter. They are in a better place now, not in this hellish world. So please, don’t look so lost. So… What is the word am I looking for…?” She trailed off, thinking intensely.

“Depressed?” The Hunter asked, and The Plain Doll nodded slowly. “Yes… Depressed. I understand that you miss them, and that they were all you had… But look at me. You have me… You still have them. They’re deep within you.” She put a fragile hand on the brunette’s chest, right where his heart was.

“Right here in your heart.”

“That’s what everyone says.” The Hunter retorted, The Doll looked up at him; curiosity flowing in her eyes. “Everyone?”

“The girl at the window in Central Yharnam, along with Dr. Iosefka. They all said the same exact thing… That they’re not really gone-“

“Listen to me Good Hunter. What they are saying is true. You just find yourself refusing to believe it.” The Doll brought The Hunter in close and pressed her forehead against his. He shivered. Everything was so cold.

“You still have memories of them. You remember them Good Hunter, so they still exist. In your head and in your heart.” The Hunter felt cold hands wrapping around the back of his neck and his face was soon buried in the crook of the porcelain doll’s neck. Slowly, slowly, he wrapped his arms around her thin waist.

She was so cold, yet warmth took over The Hunter’s body, and he soon found himself crying silently. He brought her even closer to him, if possible.

When The Doll heard a small sob escape from the green eyed male, she rubbed his back, somewhat soothingly. “Do not cry Good Hunter-“

“I want them back.” He interrupted. "I want to see them one more time, to be with them _one more time_. I can’t _stand_ being in this… This **_Nightmare_**.” He hasn’t ever spoken like this before- ever since he entered the Dream.

“Don’t we all?” The Doll questioned. The Hunter pushed her off of him, without spite, though it sure as hell looked like it. “I-I have to go. Relieve some… Stress.”

The Doll nodded in response, brushing off the hurt that spread throughout her chest. “Farewell Good-“

He was already gone.

~

“Good Hunter, you’ve done well. The night is near its end.” Gehrman folded his hands in his lap and stared at The Hunter. “Now, I will show you mercy. You will die, forget the dream, and awake under the morning sun. You will be freed from this terrible Hunter’s Dream.”

There was a pregnant silence, and The Hunter thought for a moment. And softly he spoke:

“I will submit my life to you.”

Gehrman inhaled, his face expressionless as ever. “Farewell, my keen hunter. Fear the blood.”

Turning around, The tall, lean hunter knelt on the dirt ground, surrounded by beautiful white flowers. And, then the man in the wheelchair rose, taking his Burial Blade in two strong hands. Gehrman didn’t show any emotions, but before he swung down and sliced The Good Hunter’s head off clean… He hesitated.

The Doll watched from afar, both hands on her chest. In despair, she watched The Hunter’s head roll onto the ground and come to a stop by his body. And somehow, magically, blood ran down her face from her pale eyes.

She was crying.

~

It was silent in The Hunter’s Dream, the only ‘person’ in sight being the beautiful doll that knelt at a worn grave.

She was silent for a while, her cold pale hands clasping together as she stared at the grave covered in moss.

She spoke in a soft voice after a long moment of silence, her voice hollow. “Farewell, Good Hunter…”

“May you find your worth in the waking world.”


End file.
